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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540269">The Battle of Fort Hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow'>Sparrow (hersilentlanguage)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Four Hearts as One(shots) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Carlos and Mal are made of stardust and chaos, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Multi, Oneshot, United States of Auradon (Disney), prompt: Marlos (OT4) + blanket fort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:53:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's date night. Mal and Carlos have <span class="u">one job</span>: build a cozy blanket fort in the living room while Jay and Evie step out to grab everyone dinner from their favourite fast food joints. What could possibly go wrong, right...? <strike>(Oh, I'm so glad you asked.)</strike></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evie/Carlos de Vil (Minor), Evie/Jay (minor), Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Mal/Carlos de Vil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Four Hearts as One(shots) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Battle of Fort Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKarnstein96/gifts">KittyKarnstein96</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I felt like working on something low-key today, so I asked for some domestic-themed drabble prompts. The lovely Spidey (Tumblr: @fuck-you-i-am-spiderman) hit me up with this one: Marlos (Rotten OT4) + blanket fort. This idea came to mind immediately, and since it was Spidey's birthday today, I decided to let it grow into a little oneshot instead of just a drabble.</p><p>Mind you, I haven't read over this and I'm really sleepy at this point, so it's a bit of a "no beta we die like men" situation going on down below lol. I hope you'll enjoy it, all the same. Happy birthday, Spidey! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carlos leaned into Mal’s side, squinting at the sketchbook in her lap. He said nothing until her hand stilled and she nodded to herself, then glanced at him with a raised brow. “What do you think?”</p><p>“It’s okay,” said Carlos, his tone suggesting that there was more to his opinion.</p><p>Mal huffed a breath and frowned down at her sketch. “I don’t see the problem,” she muttered.</p><p>“It’s not exactly a<em> problem,”</em> Carlos responded. “It’s just…” He trailed off, scratching at his chin as he eyed the drawing, trying to think of the right words. “These patterns are clashing, and the chairs at this angle here and here—” (He jabbed a finger at two parts of the sketch). “—don’t exactly scream structural integrity to me.” (Mal wrinkled her nose, nodding a little.) “That’s not even getting into—”</p><p>“Yeah, the lights, I know,” Mal interrupted, already tearing the page and crumpling it up. She tossed it into the growing pile at their feet and began to sketch again, her hand like a blur across the page.</p><p>When she held up the finished plans for Carlos, he made a face like he’d eaten something sour.</p><p><em>“What?”</em> she asked, starting to sound exasperated.</p><p>He opened his mouth to reply, then began to shake his head, like he didn’t want to offend her.</p><p><em>“Tell me,”</em> she demanded, twisting around to meet his stare with narrowed eyes.</p><p>He hesitated another moment before relenting with a curt nod. “Fine, it’s just a little…” He paused, chewing thoughtfully at his bottom lip as he spared another glance at the sketch. “A little this and a little that,” he offered vaguely. Mal’s eyes narrowed further, and he sighed. “Okay, just <em>aesthetically, </em>it’s a little—<em>you know—</em>Queen Belle meets the Care Bears for a cigarette in Wonderland, circa 1964.”</p><p>Mal was quiet at that, her eyebrows slowly inching up like caterpillars until her forehead wrinkled.</p><p>Finally, she replied in a deadpan, “That’s specific.”</p><p>Carlos shrugged. “You asked,” he told her, leaning away with a budding smirk.</p><p>Mal rolled her eyes as she looked back to her sketchbook, frowning at her latest design. “It’s not as easy as it looks, you know,” she grumbled, tearing the page out and tossing it aside. “You wanna try?” She glanced at Carlos, who was already shaking his head in protest. “Too bad. It’s your turn.” She dumped the sketchbook in his lap, grabbed his hand, and shoved the pencil into it. “Come on.”</p><p>Carlos’ fingers twitched, but he refused to so much as grasp the pencil properly until Mal took his hand again and began to guide him in tracing a line as though she were instructing a toddler. “Let me <em>think</em>,” he groused, pulling his hand away, and trying to ignore the way Mal was smirking.</p><p>She was quiet as he had been as she watched him start to draw with faltering movements, all the while muttering under his breath about angles and anchors and square feet and “head room.”</p><p><em>“There,”</em> he declared after several minutes, passing the sketchbook back to Mal for inspection.</p><p>She took it in hand and held it up, tilting it to the left as she cocked her head to the right, then vice versa. “Nice homage to the bears in that one commercial for two-ply toilet paper,” she said coolly. “That <em>is </em>what you were going for with—” (She gestured to a scribble.) “—whatever this is, right?”</p><p>Carlos made a noise that bordered on a low whine. “It’s not done,” he decided, reaching to take the sketchbook back, and frowning when Mal held it out of his reach with a feral grin. “Wow, mature…”</p><p>Mal’s grin sharpened. “What, your arms too short to reach?” she teased, leaning further away.</p><p>He narrowed his eyes at her, gaze flickering between her face and his target as he thought on his next move. “You wish,” was all he said before he shifted onto his knees and pounced, toppling her over into the slew of blankets they’d gathered for the fort they hadn’t even yet managed to conceptualize.</p><p>Mal went down laughing, the sketchbook forgotten as she wriggled away, straining to reach a pillow to smother Carlos with before he got any ideas about— “H-hey!” she squeaked, eyes blowing wide as she felt his fingers dig into her sides. “S-stop! Carlos, I swear to—” Her voice was lost in a squeal.</p><p>A few minutes later, the front door opened and slammed shut, and Jay and Evie’s voices spilled into the house amidst the rustling of plastic bags. The scent of take-out pervaded the air around them as they stepped into the living room, but Mal and Carlos didn’t seem to notice—too busy writhing on the floor amidst a mess of blankets and chairs, their clothes half-undone from seeking skin to tickle.</p><p>Jay raised a brow in bemusement as he set the take-out bags on the coffee table, pushed aside to make room for a blanket fort that was meant to be erected by now. He exchanged a glance with Evie, who looked a mixture of amused and exasperated and <em>not surprised.</em> She cleared her throat to try and get the squabbling pair’s attention, but neither seemed to have noticed they weren’t alone anymore.</p><p>“Spray bottle?” Jay suggested with a laugh, miming as he said it. “We have Windex.” He winked.</p><p>Evie gave his arm a playful slap. “Just grab Mal and I’ll get Carlos, okay?”</p><p>Jay made a face as he stepped forward, muttering, “Fine, but if she bites me again—”</p><p>“You can steal her dessert,” Evie agreed with a wink that made Jay brighten right back up.</p><p><em>“Nice,”</em> he whispered, more to himself than anyone else as he approached the tangle of limbs on the living room floor. He had to jump back to avoid a kick from a gasping, thrashing Carlos, who’d been pinned on his belly by the purple-haired dragon that Jay was about to try and extract from the chaos.</p><p>Evie met his eyes and gave a subtle nod, then bent to get a grip beneath Carlos’ armpits as Jay went to yank Mal off by the collar of her shirt. She whirled on him like a feral thing, practically climbing his body just to knock him off balance and send him sprawling onto the carpet with a surprised yelp.</p><p>Meanwhile, Evie helped a breathless Carlos’ to his feet, sighing patiently as she fussed with his hair and straightened out his clothes, pretending like another squabble hadn’t just broken out behind him.</p><p>“What happened to Fort Hearts?” she asked with a pointed glance at the discarded sketchbook.</p><p>Carlos flushed beneath his freckles, staring hard at his feet—one socked, one bare. “Got a little… distracted, I guess,” he mumbled, rocking back and forth on his heels. He looked up at hearing Evie chuckle, the sound soft and vaguely musical. He cracked a small smile as he added, “Sorry…”</p><p>“It’s okay, pup,” said Evie with a smile of her own. “Let’s just eat, yeah?” Carlos nodded eagerly, his eyes already wandering to the coffee table where Jay had dropped the take-out bags. Evie touched him lightly on the arm to draw his attention, then asked, “Can you grab us some plates and utensils?”</p><p>“On it!” Carlos turned toward the kitchen, but Evie tugged his shirt to pull him back.</p><p>“Grab the Windex, too,” she instructed, her smile never faltering even as Carlos raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Um… okay,” he shrugged, quick to decide he didn’t need to know her reasons. “Be right back!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, but no pressure. &lt;3</p><p>Find me on Tumblr for lots more Descendants content: @hersilentlanguage</p></blockquote></div></div>
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